


He is Ice, And I'm Aflame

by SweetSorcery



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dark, Dark Agenda, Enemies, Enemy Lovers, HP May Madness 2016, Ice Play, M/M, Male Slash, Masturbation, Obsession, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-11
Updated: 2016-05-11
Packaged: 2018-06-07 17:52:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6817948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetSorcery/pseuds/SweetSorcery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry's obsession started when he stepped into Tom's diary. Ever since, Tom has been becoming more real to him.<br/>(There's no underage warning for Harry at 16 - seems silly when someone only has sex with himself; but be aware.)</p><p>Written for HP May Madness 2016.<br/>Day 8 Prompts used: "That would be enough." Need, speed, rug. Kink: Ice play</p>
            </blockquote>





	He is Ice, And I'm Aflame

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All canon referred to within belongs to J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books, Raincoast Books, Warner Bros. Inc., and possibly others. Non-canon bits were created for non-profit, non-infringement entertainment.
> 
> Archiving: Absolutely nowhere please, and no translations either.

It started after he'd first travelled - via the diary - back in time to Tom Riddle's Hogwarts. At that point, he had not yet known that Tom Riddle and Voldemort were one and the same. He talked to Ron and Hermione about the boy he'd encountered, and they were both convinced that there was something wrong with this Tom Riddle.

Harry thought they were probably right, but it didn't stop him imagining sleek black hair and unfathomable grey eyes on the verge of sleep, and a slim hand caressing his hair as he drifted off, and the sensation of perfect lips against his own at the moment of waking.

Even after Harry found out who and what Tom really was, those moments still happened, both at school and when he went to the Dursley's over the holidays; drifting off to sleep and waking up were the only moments of his stay there which were bearable.

Over the years, as Harry grew older, his imagination, along with his need for Tom, flourished; the touches between waking and sleeping grew bolder, and his physical reactions more intense. By that point, Tom made very regular appearances in his actual dreams, and those dreams felt very real. Tom never smiled or laughed, and his touches became less gentle and more insistent. Harry always woke from those dreams sweating even while, deep down, he felt cold.

He began to think of Tom in connection with ice - cold looks, chilled fingers against his skin, cool lips brushing his heated face. Somehow, Tom's cold set Harry's body on fire like nothing else.

Especially in year six, after meeting... no, not meeting, only watching Tom again in the pensieve. Memory Tom and he were the same age then, and Harry spent many a night sneaking into the headmaster's office solely to watch Tom - smugly reigning over the original Slug Club and tricking Slughorn into telling him things he shouldn't, purely because he was too charming and determined to resist. Harry watched other memories of Tom too, just random moments Dumbledore had collected. Often, Harry was convinced Tom's eyes actually met his in those memories, looking at him and right down into his soul, but that was of course impossible. Wasn't it?

When not watching the memories but, afterwards, back in his bed, Harry closed his curtains, said every privacy spell he knew, and stripped to his bare skin, before retrieving the box of ice cubes spelled frozen until removed from the box. He took one out and ran it over his face, lingering on his lips - imaging Tom leaning over him and kissing him. Then he slid the ice down his neck and, with his eyes closed, it felt like Tom's tongue. He let the cube slide over his chest, lingering at his nipples, which he circled - imagining Tom's icy fingers - before laying the cube on each nipple in turn, hissing at the chill of Tom's lips he wished into their place.

By the time the ice cube was sliding down his stomach, resting for a moment on his belly button, and then following the line of hair down to his cock, it was half melted, and Harry was panting heavily.

"Tom..." he sighed, a second ice cube, pressed against the lobe of his ear, feeling so much like icy breath whispering a response. that he wondered if he was going crazy.

His cock was hard by this point, without any touch at all, and Harry ran the nearly melted ice cube around its base, before sliding it up the length of it, taking care to trace a vein, which made the sensation even more intense. He timed the cube's arrival on the tip of his cock with its impending demise, hissing with pleasure at the ice water running into his slit and down the shaft to his pubic hair. 

The second cube was in his mouth by then, his tongue playing with it - with Tom's tongue - as he grasped himself firmly to stroke his chilled and wet cock almost painfully hard; Tom wouldn't be gentle. He fisted his cock roughly, picking up more and more speed, until he came, the gush of heat against his chilled skin making him groan out loud. If he was really lucky, the ice cube in his mouth melted at the same moment, and that would be enough to send him to sleep with a smile on his face.

He sometimes went to the Chamber of Secrets, where he would conjure a rug to kneel on while his mouth went down on Tom's cock - a long stick of ice he held at an intentionally uncomfortable angle that forced him into a submissive, pleading position, and he took it as deep into his throat as he could while fisting his cock with one cold hand. Tom stared down at him with fathomless eyes while calling him his good boy.

After leaving Hogwarts, he had brief, meaningless one-night stands. Guys found it too weird that he didn't want to meet their eyes or allow himself to be touched unless there was ice involved. Truth be told, he only let them into his bed because he couldn't comfortably reach back to do what he wanted without destroying the illusion.

Ice cubes being run down his back, leaving a little pool of ice water in the small dent at the base, before being traced down his crack, became Tom's long fingers. He parted his legs then, shifting enough to lift his arse, and when the cube first touched his hole, he hissed at the feel of Tom's tongue lapping at him. He insisted the cube would have to be moved back and forth, pressed against his opening until he either widened enough or the ice was sufficiently melted from the immense heat inside him. When it slipped in, as Tom would, he came hard.

Once Tom started groaning out his name as the ice melted in his arse, Harry decided to start using spells rather than the hands of strangers. If he used the spells Tom had taught him in his dreams, there was no limit to the things he and Tom could do together.

 

THE END


End file.
